by Robin Trent
"The night they killed your wife, oh, that was a horrible business. No one should have to die like that. I don't know if I ever said I was sorry, Rhys, but I am." Titwell took a puff from his pipe, waiting to see if Rhys wanted to say anything. Darkness was passing over Rhys' face that did not bode well. Titwell decided he needed to pick up the pace and get on with it.
"Your child, Rhys, your son. He didn't burn in the fire. A baby that had already died was put in his place. Your son was whisked off into the night and placed with a foster family to be raised in secret." Titwell hitched a little in his breathing when he saw Rhys' fists ball up. "Now Rhys, I didn't have anything to do with this. I wasn't even there. Just try to remain calm so I can finish this."
"I'll let you finish. I won't be responsible for how I react after you finish, but I will let you finish." Rhys' was starting to get that feral look in his features.
Titwell gulped. He wet his lips and kept his eyes on Rhys as he continued talking. "Your son grew up to be a fine young lad. He married, had children, and lived to be a ripe old age. He knew nothing of his lineage, although he looked a lot his mother. He even had Brianna's red hair."
"Why?" That was all Rhys could manage as anger and remorse were flowing through him, heavily weighing down his heart.
"Rhys, you know the villagers killed Brianna. What do you think they would have done if they had known your son was alive? What do you think would have happened if the Sidhe had known he was alive?"
"That. Wasn't. Your. Decision," Rhys said through gritted teeth.
"No, you're right. It wasn't my decision. As I said, I wasn't there. It was Queen Oonagh's decision. She did what she felt was right. It kept the humans and the Sidhe from fighting. Everyone thought it was all over, and it ended the conflict."
Rhys jumped up and began pacing the room like a wild animal. Whatever his reason for coming here tonight, Titwell was pretty sure he had forgotten it.
"Oonagh. Always the politician. Always meddling in people's lives." Rhys looked like he could kill.
"Rhys, Oonagh did save your son's life. Remember that when you go after her. She didn't have to."
He didn't thank Titwell for the information, not that Titwell expected any thanks. This was actually nasty news. But before he left, Titwell had something to ask Rhys.
"About my journal," Titwell began. Rhys whirled around on the hob, glaring ferociously, chest heaving.
"Uhm. Could I have it back, please? It is my rightful property." Titwell felt very timid at the moment.
Rhys didn't speak. He was so angry speech was impossible. He simply side-stepped into the Otherworld and left Titwell behind. He knew if he didn't get out of there, he was going to tear the house brownie limb from limb.
Titwell stared at the space where Rhys had been just a moment before, then his gaze traveled down to the floor. There, where Rhys had stood, lay the journal, complete and unharmed.
Early morning saw Elizabeth awake and ready to take on a new day. She stared at the made side of her bed and wondered how long it would be before her husband decided to sleep beside her. Nikolai had been hit with a lot since he arrived home, and the result had been him sitting up late into the night drinking and staring at the fire. Elizabeth knew her husband was just troubled by the news, and it wasn't that he no longer loved his wife. She grabbed a shawl and threw it over her shoulders. She wanted to take a brisk walk before breakfast, and she knew where she wanted to go.
It was one of those beautiful October days when the sun was shining, and the sky was blue and crystal clear. Leaves crunched underneath her feet, and she kicked them up into clouds of fluttering color as she walked. The trees still had some leaves, and they rattled in the soft breeze. It felt good to be outside. There was nothing to be afraid of and nothing to worry over. The wolves were gone, run off or killed. They wouldn't be back for some time, if at all. Elizabeth walked down one hill and up another. When she was a young girl, she used to walk these woods and knew every inch of them. She had never been overly afraid and had never run into anything untoward unless you counted her friends.
Elizabeth started to remember something as she walked. When she was younger, she had made friends with some of the faery folk, and it was in this forest that she had met them. There was a clearing and then the knoll, and she was close. Elizabeth picked up her pace. She wondered if they would still talk to her.
Rhys Bryhana paced back and forth as Strakx watched. Rhys had been up all night and still hadn't slept. He came back from the Merkova house, talking fast and pacing. He would sit down, and then in a few minutes more, he would be back up pacing again. Strakx had never seen Rhys behave in a manic way before. In listening to what he was saying though, he had gathered that Rhys' son had lived, and Oonagh was to blame. Or something like that, not that blaming would be the right word because his son having lived was a good thing. But he had completely missed raising his child, seeing him grow up, having a piece of Brianna to treasure and hold on to. Not that he could have held on to him forever; being mortal, he would not have lived as long as Rhys. Oh good grief, Strakx was getting tired.
"Hello?" a female voice called out.
Rhys and Strakx immediately blended into their backgrounds, having no desire to be seen. Yellow hair could be spotted edging over the curve of the mound, and then a face, and then a dress as the young woman rose up over the knoll. She stopped and stood not twenty feet from Strakx and Rhys. "Hello? Is there anybody here?"
Rhys was fascinated. Had the woman finally lost her mind?
"My name is Elizabeth. I used to come here when I was a young girl. You used to talk to me. I need to talk to someone now. Are you there? Hello?"
Rhys shook his head in disbelief. Had she seen Sidhe as a child? No wonder she was caught all up in this.
"Could someone help me? My child has been taken from me, and I believe one of you might have her. Could you please talk to me?" Elizabeth was beginning to feel ridiculous.
Strakx sat on his haunches, slack-jawed and stunned. What the hell? He looked up at Rhys, who was smiling, and Strakx was pretty sure he knew why. That woman was almost the spitting image of Brianna. "Rhys?" Strakx whispered.
Rhys pumped his hand in a downward motion, telling Strakx to be quiet.
He walked over to Elizabeth and whispered in her hair. He stood exceptionally close to her, a little too close, Strakx thought.
Soon enough, Elizabeth made a face, rolled her eyes, and said to herself, "What am I doing?"
Rhys whispered some more to her, and pretty soon, she was walking around and looking, raising her hand up to her eyes to shield them from the sun. Elizabeth didn't see anything, but she was starting to feel uneasy, like she needed to go back home. It wasn't long after that she began her trek back through the forest, feeling ridiculous for even thinking anyone would answer.
Rhys and Strakx followed her home. Rhys wanted to make sure she got back safely and that nothing happened along the way. Elizabeth was not like most humans, unaware of the other world that went on around them while they lived their simple lives. But she didn't completely have the Sight either. Rhys and Strakx could hide from her if they wanted to. As they walked, Rhys observed how the forest reacted to Elizabeth's presence. Dryads emerged from trees, if only briefly. Animals seemed to want to draw closer. He noticed fox and hare, squirrel and hart, all paying attention but not in the least bit frightened. It was almost as if Elizabeth belonged in the forest more than she did in her own home.
At the edge of the woods, Rhys and Strakx stopped. They watched Elizabeth walk through her yard, pulling leaves from her hair. Nikolai raced out of the house, reaching Elizabeth and admonishing her for taking off by herself like that in the woods. Elizabeth assured her husband she was just out for a morning stroll, and she knew what she was doing. Rhys knew by watching the two of them that while Nikolai may love his wife, he didn't understand her.
"Rhys." Strakx tugged on his shirt. "Rhys, what was that all about?"
"Strakx, old f
riend, I believe you are looking at one of my descendants." Rhys smiled. It was the first time Strakx had seen him smile since he had come back from the Merkova house.
"And Oonagh has some answering to do," Rhys said as the smile disappeared.
"Well, bloody hell Rhys, what do you think Oonagh is going to do? Admit wrongdoing? Apologize? She's the queen and royalty don't owe you no explanation." Strakx folded his arms across his chest as if what he had said was the final word on the matter.
"Oonagh took my child from me, and she allowed my wife to die. She could have stopped it. She could have saved Brianna. She could have told me about my child. But she didn't," Rhys growled.
"I'm not saying what she did was right. I'm just saying don't expect much when you confront her, that's all."
It wasn't that walking in the forest was a bad thing; it was just one more erratic thing that Elizabeth had done recently. Nikolai stared at his wife from across the breakfast table.
"I don't want you wandering off like that again, Elizabeth. Anything could have happened to you."
Elizabeth looked at her husband, hiding her frustration. "I have wandered these woods since I was a child, Nikki. I was perfectly safe."
"I don't care about what you have done since childhood. You are my wife and the mother of my children. We don't know that the wolves are all gone. For God's sake, Elizabeth! I forbid you to go into the woods alone like that ever again. If you insist on taking a walk, I will go with you. I can carry a rifle and protect you." Nikolai dug into his breakfast with his knife and fork as if he were murdering it. Elizabeth felt sorry for Nikki in some ways. In others, she was utterly annoyed with him. Still, she knew he was in his right to exert his husbandly protectiveness. She decided to keep quiet and acquiesce as she sipped her morning tea.
Nikolai felt like he was beyond angry and entirely out of his depth. His wife worried him to distraction, and now she was willfully putting herself in danger. He wasn't sure about his wife's mental state either. She looked healthy, she sounded reasonable, but his discussion with Helen had left him shaken and unsure of what course to take. Waiting for the doctor was driving him insane. If he could get a sound opinion from a learned professional, it would calm his own fears so he could stop overreacting to his wife's independence. He knew his wife had always been willful and would do pretty much whatever she wanted regardless of his desires. But now, with doubts firmly planted in his head, everything his wife did seemed to trouble him. He wanted Helen to be wrong, but he couldn't be sure.
30
It had been a long time since Rhys had visited the Seelie Court. Even though he was now considered Unseelie, he only felt like a visitor in that realm. He approached the rock formation that housed the Queen of the Seelie. You couldn't actually call it a castle, like humans have. It was more of a cave with many rooms. A cave with one giant waterfall in the center, a pool below with floating flowers, and brightly colored fish, even in winter. Rhys stared up at the ledges of rock where sentries hid, armed with cross-bows.
He put his hands up in the air and went down on his knees. He was not a threat and had not come to harm anyone. Not yet, anyway. He needed an audience with Oonagh because he had questions to be answered, and she was the only one who could. From deep within the cave, a Sidhe warrior came out of the shadows and approached Rhys.
The warrior was short for a Sidhe but still taller than most human men. He had dark brown, close-cropped hair and eyes that were so dark they were almost black. He was fit but stocky, and he was strong. He carried himself with an air of authority, the kind that made those in his command follow him. He was also someone that Rhys used to call his brother. Halflar Sylwraek was the Captain of the Guard on the Seelie side, and he didn't play around. But unlike Raelgar, Halflar didn't feel he had anything to prove. He walked straight up to Rhys and pounded his staff into the ground.
"You know a smart Sidhe would know better than to come back here."
"Well, I guess I'm not very smart." Rhys grinned.
"No, brother, you never were. You know I have orders to kill you if you ever come near Queen Oonagh again?" Halflar was serious.
"I wouldn't have come here if it wasn't important. I need to see Oonagh."
"She won't see you."
"Ask. Please." Rhys never said please.
Halflar rolled his shoulders and bent over to whisper in Rhys' ear. "If she tries to have me killed for asking this very stupid question, I will come after you."
"I would expect no less, brother." Rhys smiled again.
"Oh, and I would say it is good to see you if it wasn't under these circumstances." Halflar rose and strode back into the cave.
He was gone for about five minutes. In that time, Rhys studied the rocky ledges and counted the guards who had weapons pointed at him. Fifteen. That was going to make escaping rather difficult if Oonagh decided to kill him. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.
Halflar returned, scowling. "She said she'll see you. Get up." He turned to signal his men to stand down. "I, however, am not to let you out of my sight. So, I am going to ask you this once and only once. Do not lie to me." Halflar stared hard at Rhys. "Are you here to kill the queen?"
Rhys looked at his boots and shook his head from side to side. "No. Though I may feel like strangling her depending on her answer to my questions, I won't kill her."
Halflar looked like he still didn't want to let Rhys inside.
"I swear on my own life, I am not here to kill the queen." Rhys let out a big sigh as he waited for Halflar to make up his mind.
Halflar took a step back and turned to go back into the cave. "Follow me," he said over his shoulder.
Rhys was led into the throne room, but they didn't stop in front of the dais. They walked into another room that opened up behind the throne, closed off and quiet. A similar throne sat there, the one that Oonagh used when she was not in power.
Halflar turned to Rhys. "Stay here." And then he stepped off to the side.
Dr. Barrett came into Elizabeth's room. He was there to examine her, as Nikolai had requested. This wasn't going to require a physical examination, but more of a talk to determine her sanity. He had left Nikolai downstairs, pacing in the living room. He would talk with him later. Dr. Barrett quietly moved about the room, setting down his medical bag and placing a chair in front of Elizabeth. "There now. Elizabeth, do you know who I am?"
She let out an exasperated breath. "Yes, Dr. Barrett, I am fully aware of who you are. You don't have to walk around here like I am going to go off at any moment if you should disturb my fragile sensibilities."
Dr. Barrett blushed. "Well, I was trying not to alarm you."
"Should I be?" Elizabeth asked.
"Be what?" Dr. Barrett replied.
"Alarmed. Should I be alarmed?" Elizabeth asked again.
"Well, no. Oh, let's get on with it then." He pulled out his plexor from his satchel and proceeded to test Elizabeth's reflexes. He then per-cussed her back and listened with his stethoscope. He looked at her eyes, checked her throat. Everything looked normal.
"So, what is the doctor's diagnosis?" Elizabeth inquired.
"Physically, you're right as rain. Nothing wrong with you there," Dr. Barrett said as he sat back down in front of Elizabeth. "So, how have you been feeling?"
"I feel fine, Dr. Barrett, as you can see for yourself," Elizabeth said.
"No, I don't mean physically. I mean emotionally. Are you happy?" Dr. Barrett asked.
"Is my happiness really that important? I'm not unhappy, which is probably more accurate of an assessment."
"I see. And are you still seeing things?" Dr. Barrett squinted an eye at her as if that would show him the truth.
"Ah, I see. You mean, am I still seeing faeries running about?"
He nodded his head in the affirmative encouraging her.
"No. I don't see them. Not anymore."
"Well, good. That's good. Progress." Dr. Barrett sounded relieved.
"And have you had conversations wi
th them recently?" he asked carefully.
"No. I don't have what I would call conversations with them," Elizabeth said.
Dr. Barrett tilted his head a bit as he digested not so much what she said, but how she said it. "What would you call them?"
"Brief interactions of only a couple of words." Elizabeth sat there smiling at her own cleverness as she watched the doctor's face grow pale. "You must agree that one or two words is not a conversation."
"Well, I suppose I do." Dr. Barrett sighed. "And how often would you say you have those interactions?"
"Oh, I had one just a few days ago. Not very often, though." Elizabeth smiled brightly. Part of her was angry. She knew she shouldn't be. And she knew she should answer his questions as a completely normal person would. But Elizabeth had had enough. Her mother was finally gone, and now she had to be subjected to this ridiculous examination.
"Elizabeth, you understand that what you are saying to me isn't normal?" he asked.
"Not normal for you, I suppose. And not normal for this tiny little parish with its tiny little minds that have nothing better to do than gossip about someone else." Elizabeth was even angrier after she let herself express how she really felt. She stood up, which seemed to alarm Dr. Barrett, and walked over to the window.
"I don't suppose you understand, do you? You see, Doctor, all my life I've been able to see what others could not. Can't help it. I was born this way. And I have been asked to lie about it by my mother, and now my husband has you examining me to see if I am sane. I assure you, I am more than sane." Elizabeth turned to face Dr. Barrett, anger bubbling up now to the point she didn't think she could stop. Nor did she seem to care. "I want you to listen to me, very carefully. I have been poked and prodded a good deal of my life. I have been examined and looked after. I abhor doctors, nurses, and institutions. They make you feel more like an animal in a cage than a human being. I don't expect to see you again, Dr. Barrett. I believe I have had enough of your examination. Please leave now."
